The Process of Holiness

“We have seen what we are not, and what God wants us to be, but are we willing to be battered into the shape of the vision to be used by God? The beatings will always come in the most common, everyday ways and through common, everyday people. This means living the realities of our lives in the light of the vision until the truth of the vision is actually realized in us” (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest).

I’m sure you’ve heard of the song about how everyone wants to go to heaven but no one wants to die, right? Well, this one’s called “Everyone Wants to be Holy, but No One Wants to Pay the Price for It.”

Not quite as catchy. But most believers want to be like Jesus. At least most say they do, including me. But far fewer are willing to do what it takes. More accurately, far less are willing to submit to the process that God uses to shape us into holy people.

The process looks a lot like taking a block of stone and chiseling it into Michelangelo’s David. Or when a silversmith purifies silver by sticking it into red-hot flames. Or when God puts hard circumstances and unkind people into our lives to teach us perseverance and patience.

I want to be used by God, but I’m less keen on being battered into shape for it. I’d rather skip right to the usefulness part and skip all the unpleasant part about God molding me into somebody useful.

A lot of it has to do with perspective. The way I look at the interruptions, delays, inconveniences, and hardships in my life says a lot about where my maturity level is. If I see them as hindrances, then maybe I need to grow up a little more. If I see them as the hand of God shaping and guiding me toward a greater purpose, then I’m getting closer to becoming who God created me to be in the first place.

“I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am” (Philippians 4:11-13, The Message).

The Purpose of Prayer

“Every time we pray our horizon is altered, our attitude to things is altered, not sometimes but every time, and the amazing thing is that we don’t pray more” (Oswald Chambers, in The Place of Help).

Oswald Chambers also said something else that I’ve thought a lot about over the years. He said that prayer doesn’t so much change the things around me as it changes me and I change things. I think maybe I’d say that when I pray for God to change my circumstances, what I really want is a shortcut out of the difficult season. God wants me to endure the season so that I am changed by it.

It’s like the old story of the cocoon and the butterfly. If you “help” the caterpillar out of the cocoon rather than watch it struggle, you deprive it of the strength it needs to fly. When we pray for God to take us or those we love over an obstacle rather than through it, we are robbing ourselves of sweetness of learning to know God deeper through the struggle and coming out of it more like Jesus.

I don’t think my problem is not praying enough as much as it is praying the wrong way. I still pray to God like I used to write to Santa Claus back in the day. I have my list of what I want, and when the list is over, I’m done. But prayer really is so much more than getting from God as it is getting to know God. And getting to know myself in the process.

“Prayer is not getting things from God. That is a most initial stage; prayer is getting into perfect communion with God: I tell Him what I know He knows in order that I may get to know it as He does”(Oswald Chambers, Prayer: A Holy Occupation).

Turning the Wine Back into Water

“Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses (C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory).

I’m guilty all the time of looking at people like they’re ordinary. I think that’s the default setting for the human race. We rarely if ever see anyone and see the image of God in him or her. We just don’t take the time to see beyond the surface labels of pretty, plain, fat, skinny, tall, short, etc.

I wonder what would happen if we could see people the way Jesus saw people. He didn’t see a stereotype or a caricature. Every time, He saw a unique individual with a story like no one else’s. He created each person with a one-of-a-kind purpose and plan that no one and nothing else can do.

He looked at you and me and thought we were worth dying for. Even at our worst moment in those times we wish we could take back or do over, Jesus still chose to go to the cross and lay down His life for us. While we were still sinners, the Bible says, Christ died for us.

I’ve been guilty of prejudging people before I’ve even had the chance to get to know them. Sometimes, I see the way they interact with others or maybe the expression on their faces. I’m sure I’m not the only one, but I’m also sure glad that Jesus didn’t judge me like that. He saw the absolute worst version of me and still loved me.

I wonder what would happen if we loved people like that. Maybe we wouldn’t have to hunt high and low for gospel conversations and opportunities to share our faith. Maybe people would seek us out and want to know more about this Jesus they see in us, even if they can’t put a name to what they see.

In the Furnace

“One day we took the children to see a goldsmith refine gold after the ancient manner of the East. He was sitting beside his little charcoal fire. (‘He shall sit as a refiner’; the gold- or silversmith never leaves his crucible once it is on the fire.) In the red glow lay a common curved roof tile; another tile covered it like a lid. This was the crucible. In it was the medicine made of salt, tamarind fruit and burnt brick dust, and imbedded in it was the gold. The medicine does its appointed work on the gold, ‘then the fire eats it,’ and the goldsmith lifts the gold out with a pair of tongs, lets it cool, rubs it between his fingers, and if not satisfied puts it back again in fresh medicine. This time he blows the fire hotter than it was before, and each time he puts the gold into the crucible, the heat of the fire is increased; ‘it could not bear it so hot at first, but it can bear it now; what would have destroyed it then helps it now.’ ‘How do you know when the gold is purified?’ we asked him, and he answered, ‘When I can see my face in it [the liquid gold in the crucible] then it is pure’ (Amy Carmichael, Gold Cord).

Some of you are in the furnace right now. It might be the furnace of affliction, suffering, and pain. It might be the furnace of rejection and loneliness. Or it might be the furnace of unfulfilled hopes and dreams. Whatever it is, you can probably think of a million places you’d rather be than in that furnace.

But remember in the furnace is where you’re purified and sanctified. As much as I want it to be true, holiness doesn’t come from happiness. All those glorious spiritual mountaintop experiences aren’t what make you more like Jesus. It’s trudging through the valley where you learn and grow and become who God made you to be.

In one of my favorite books, Hinds’ Feet on High Places, the main character Much Afraid is sent out on a quest by the Shepherd and given two companions to help her on her way. Their names are Pain and Suffering. At first, she recoils and almost rejects them, but after some thought and reflections on the goodness of her Shepherd, she accepts their guidance. In the end, they are as much transformed as she is.

God takes what the world means to destroy us to strengthen us. He takes what was meant to set us back to move us forward. He takes what the enemy meant for evil, and He turns it for good (as the worship song goes). He’s working all things together for your and my good (even the crappy sucky stuff we’d rather move past and not have to deal with).

The end goal is for Jesus to see His likeness in us. For God to see His reflection in us and for the world to see God’s reflection in us as well. Then we know that we are truly being purified.

Live Gladly

“The greatest honor we can give Almighty God is to live gladly because of the knowledge of his love”(Julian of Norwich).

I think one of the biggest turnoffs to faith is people who profess Christ but spend most of their days with sour faces and unpleasant dispositions. If you truly have been made alive by the grace of God, shouldn’t you be filled with joy?

I get that people have bad days, but even on the bad days there is good. Even the worst days have a little bit of good in them. I don’t think people should fake being happy when their lives are falling apart, but I think that people who know the peace of Jesus should live like it and live like it matters because it does.

I knew a man once who was a former pastor and a greeter at a church event I attended weekly. I found out that he was dying from cancer, but every time I asked him how he was doing, he would say he was fine. He never complained or whined. He showed up as long as he was able and served with a smile because he knew that cancer would not have the last word.

Looking back, I feel a bit ashamed because I know I probably complained about my life to a man who was in a battle way worse than anything I’ve ever faced. Still, he was gracious to me. He showed me Jesus in the midst of his own pain and suffering.

My prayer is that I can be like that. I hope I can exude joy so that people around me who don’t know Jesus will want to know where that joy comes from. That’s actually my prayer for all of us. May we be living billboards of grace whose lives preach just as good of a sermon as any words we could ever use. May our words and deeds (not one or the other but both) tell of a good God and a gracious Savior who can save anybody at any time.

Don’t Miss This Chapter

Personally, I’d rather skip to the good part. That’s the danger of the DVR age where you can record stuff off of the television and skip all the commercials and boring parts. We think that somehow God owes it to us to remove us from the boring or painful parts of life and take us directly to the good stuff.

But the boring and painful parts are where we learn and grow and become the people who are ready for the good stuff. I’ve heard and I truly believe that if God gave us everything we wanted right now (even if it was all good and godly things), it would destroy us.

Part of God’s timing is getting the thing we’re about to receive ready. Part is getting us ready to receive it. Both are necessary. Also, we learn to appreciate the good more when we’re in a season of bad. Or just in a season of not as good.

Sometimes, God uses this life to remind us not to settle down here. We need to be reminded that this is not our forever home. The world as it is is a beautiful but broken place, and we are wonderfully made but also broken people living in it. Until both are fixed, it’s not fit for eternity.

So God uses the parts I’d rather skip to teach me. He uses the parts that at the time make no sense to prune me and mold me and shape me into someone who looks and sounds and acts a whole lot like Jesus. He takes those seemingly never-ending boring parts to cultivate in us a spirit of patience and longsuffering and joy and peace that we would not otherwise learn if life were all fun and games and good parts.

Our part isn’t to figure out what God is doing or to try to manipulate Him into skipping the parts we don’t like. His part is to make us like Jesus and into people who are ready to receive what He’s prepared for us from the foundation of the world. Our part is to trust and obey.

Life Is a Fairy Tale

I suppose whether you agree with this or not depends on your definition of what makes a fairy tale. Is it void of any true hardship or suffering? Then that’s not a true fairy tale. Does it need fantastical creatures? That’s debatable, but I think not.

What a fairy tale needs is a happy ending. You know going in that the main character is going to live happily ever after.

If you look at life strictly from this side of heaven, then it’s not a fairy tale. There’s so much suffering and evil that goes unresolved and unpunished. There are so many wrongs that never get put right.

But if you look through the lens of the resurrection, then you see the fairy tale. In fact, you could see the whole Bible story as a sort of true fairy tale where the King comes to rescue His beloved from imminent danger.

It all depends on perspective. If you see your life through the eyes of faith, you know that the happy ending is coming, even if you might not see it this side of eternity. But it is coming.

“It is a world of magic and mystery, of deep darkness and flickering starlight. It is a world where terrible things happen and wonderful things too. It is a world where goodness is pitted against evil, love against hate, order against chaos, in a great struggle where often it is hard to be sure who belongs to which side because appearances are endlessly deceptive. Yet for all its confusion and wildness, it is a world where the battle goes ultimately to the good, who live happily ever after, and where in the long run everybody, good and evil alike, becomes known by his true name….That is the fairy tale of the Gospel with, of course, one crucial difference from all other fairy tales, which is that the claim made for it is that it is true, that it not only happened once upon a time but has kept on happening ever since and is happening still”(Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale).

Reason to Sing

As you may or may not be aware, I have music perpetually playing in my head all the time. I mean All. The. Time. Like from the moment I wake up until the moment I finally fall asleep. Every now and then, I have a random song that I haven’t heard in a while that sneaks into my mental playlist. Or sometimes I think God puts a song in my mind that speaks above the volume of everything else.

One song, Reason to Sing, is from the group All Sons and Daughters. The confessional lyrics are raw and honest in a way that most current worship music is not. I believe it’s from 2013, so it’s not ancient or really all that old, but the lyrics speak a timeless truth to all those feel like lives shattered on the floor. I hope it will speak to you as it has spoken to me over the years:

“When the pieces seem too shattered
To gather off the floor
And all that seems to matter
Is that I don’t feel You anymore
No I don’t feel You anymore

I need a reason to sing
I need a reason to sing
I need to know that You’re still holding
The whole world in Your hands
I need a reason to sing

When I’m overcome by fear
And I hate everything I know
If this waiting lasts forever
I’m afraid I might let go
I’m afraid I might let go oh

Will there be a victory?
Will You sing it over me now?
Your peace is the melody
With You sing it over me now?

I need a reason to sing
I need a reason to sing
I need to know that You’re still holding
The whole world in Your hands
That is a reason to sing

I will sing, sing, sing to my God my King, ‘fore all else fades away;                                       
I will love, love, love with this heart in me, for You’ve been good always” (Leslie Jordan, David Leonard, Alli Rogers © 2011 Integrity’s Praise! Music/BMI and Integrity’s Alleluia! Music/SESAC (both adm at EMICMGPublishing.com), and Simple Tense Songs/ASCAP CCLI # 6092351).

Rejoice in the Lord Always

Paul exhorts us, saying, “Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, rejoice” (Phil. 4:4). How is it possible to “rejoice always?” … Many words are not needed, nor a long round of argument, but if we only consider his expression, we shall find the way that leads to it. He does not simply say, “Rejoice always,” but he adds the cause of the continual pleasure, saying, “Rejoice in the Lord always.” He who rejoices “in the Lord,” cannot be deprived of the pleasure by anything that may happen. For all other things in which we rejoice are mutable and changeable, and subject to variation. And not only does this grievous circumstance attend them, but moreover while they remain they do not afford us a pleasure sufficient to repel and veil the sadness that comes upon us from other quarters. But the fear of God contains both these requisites. It is steadfast and immovable, and sheds so much gladness that we can admit no sense of other evils. For the man who fears God as he ought, and trusts in him, gathers from the very root of pleasure, and has possession of the whole fountain of joy. And as a spark falling upon a wide ocean quickly disappears, so whatever events happen to the man who fears God, these, falling as it were upon an immense ocean of joy, are quenched and destroyed!” (John Chrysostom)

Again, the Bible does not say to give thanks for everything but in everything give thanks. There is a difference.

I don’t need to rejoice for suffering and pain in me or in those around me. I can rejoice confidently that God is working in those things to bring about His glory and our good. I can rejoice that in the seemingly unending changing of the world around me that God remains eternally changeless.

I can rejoice that God is with me even in the worst of circumstances, that He is for me even during my worst moments, and He is in me transforming my worst parts into glory. I can rejoice that He who began a good work in me will most definitely bring it to completion in Christ Jesus.

I can celebrate that what momentary afflictions I encounter down here won’t even begin to compare to the glory that’s coming. It won’t even be close. I can rejoice that at the end of the day, at the end of my life, God will have the last word and the last victory.

He Suffered for Us

“I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross. The only God I believe in is the one Nietzsche ridiculed as “God on the Cross.” In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it? I have entered many Buddhist temples and stood respectfully before the statue of Buddha, his legs crossed, arms folded, eyes closed, the ghost of a smile playing round his mouth, a remote look on his face, detached from the agonies of the world. But each time after a while I have had to turn away. And in imagination I have turned instead to that lonely, twisted, tortured figure on the cross, nails through hands and feet, back lacerated, limbs wrenched, brow bleeding from thorn-pricks, mouth dry and intolerably thirsty, plunged in Godforsaken darkness. That is the God for me! He laid aside his immunity to pain. He entered our world of flesh and blood, tears and death. He suffered for us” (John Stott).

Every other religion is about working our way to God and somehow managing to be good enough or obey enough rules or simply to be lucky enough to get to heaven or nirvana or whatever they believe exists after death. But Christianity is the story about how God in Jesus has come to us (and I hear Mike Glenn’s voice as I type these words). Jesus knew that man could never climb high enough to get to heaven, so He came from heaven to live among us and die for us.

It’s still a few weeks away from Lent Season and Easter, but I still think it’s good to remember that God doesn’t watch us suffering from a distance. He’s with us in our suffering. Best of all, He became one of us and suffered for us more than anyone before or since to provide redemption and salvation and freedom to all who would receive Him.

That’s a good thought for Easter, but it’s also good for any time of the year. It’s good especially for times like these when pain and suffering are the norm rather than the exception. Your King knows all about suffering and He is still here and He still reigns. One day, He will make all things right. This is our God, and Jesus is His name.